I spent my formative years in several different states, school districts, and houses. The bulk of which, however, was in a farm house and small school in western Ohio. A large, rural community with almost exclusively conservative undertones. As much as my parents ingrained their own liberal values, I was (I realize now) constantly affected by the societal expectations of my community.
Fast-forward to present day. I have a BDSM relationship with my husband and we have decided to open up our marriage. So, what do I do? I jump in with both feet. I had been talking with Jack from Jack and Jill for a long time on twitter. When the chance arose to meet him and his wife for a few days of fun I didn’t waste time considering outcomes. I went to California earlier this month and had a fabulous time.
The problem is, however, that I had a fabulous time. Jack and I connected on more than just a sexual level. We had more in common that I would have guessed. We just clicked. I’ve never laughed and orgasmed so much in two short days.
But when I left for Los Angeles, and even more so when I got home, I became confused and scared. What did our new relationship mean? Was I special or just another conquest for him? Would he ever want to see me again? How can I really ask him to consider me a part of his life when we live across the country and he has so many other partners?
Sir and I talked about my distress. And he mentioned something that really made me step back for a moment. He said “society leads women to believe that to be successful in a relationship they have to ‘land’ a man. There has to be commitment solidified, especially if sex is involved”. At first I wanted to argue with him, but in the case of my family and community, he was right. And I think that’s why I couldn’t help feeling like I failed with Jack.
Society was telling me that Jack should have been falling all over himself to propose to me. Telling me that our sex was the best he ever day. Which, a) he’s happily married, and b) if he told me I was the best sex I probably wouldn’t have believed him anyway. In order for it to have been a societal success he would have promised me something (I’m not even sure I understand what that would have had to have been).
But all relationships don’t fit into this fairy tale mold. Open relationships are fluid. People can have an enormous impact on your life and you may only see them a few times a year. Just because Jack cannot be a physical presence in my life everyday doesn’t mean that he isn’t special. And it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about me. We just have to find a way to rework those ‘traditional’ perimeters of what we are to each other.
More importantly, however, I need to let go of these assumptions about what we can and cannot be. Labels have always bothered me, but I do hate it when I don’t understand where I stand with someone. Society would have enough trouble accepting my married with a lover status. Trying to find a definition of what being a ‘lover’ means outside of cheating is impossible.
Jack and I had a wonderful time. I also enjoyed the time spent with Jill in the evenings. Jack and I consider each other lovers and I’m sure we will find a way to see each other again. I’m going to try my best to leave it at that and not pressure him for more or demand less from myself. Society, and my local community, doesn’t know anything about kink life anyway. He can be my lover that no one needs to know about besides my husband. Because honestly, it’s none of their business anyway.